


Witch’s Curse

by Jackie_Gaytona



Series: What We Create in October (but in November) [2]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Embarrassment, Guillermo considers quitting, M/M, Masturbation, Nandor needs help, Professional help, not really but he should
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackie_Gaytona/pseuds/Jackie_Gaytona
Summary: He should have knocked. Why hadn’t he knocked? It was polite of people to knock before entering one’s private quarters. It was customary to knock. He usually knocked, though sometimes he was preoccupied and, as Nandor often teased, too familiar.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Series: What We Create in October (but in November) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017477
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Witch’s Curse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shocked_into_shame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shocked_into_shame/gifts).



> This was inspired somewhat by the amazing fic by shocked_into_shame: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547327 THIS IS DEDICATED TO YOU, C.
> 
> Mine is just terribly corrupted crack...

Guillermo was three weeks into his Memo’s Man Milk business venture, and things were going…swimmingly, when he hit his first quandary. Or rather, Nandor hit it, when he _should_ have been hitting something else.

It was 10pm, Thursday night, one of the dedicate semen-collecting times in which Guillermo felt confident he could waltz into Nandor’s room and not catch him in the act (the vampires were very quick with their work). Thankfully, catching him in the act was yet to happen. _Yet_ being the key word. Because at present, he was still half a second from opening Nandor’s door, hucking the small empty jar-collecting-crate under one arm in order to twist the handle.

He should have knocked. Why hadn’t he knocked? It was polite of people to knock before entering one’s private quarters. It was customary to knock. He usually knocked, though sometimes he was preoccupied and, as Nandor often teased, too _familiar_. And right now, Guillermo had a lot on his mind, such as needing to brace himself for the awkward small-talk that accompanied these wretched business exchanges. His eleventh-grade psychology teacher may have summoned Freud’s ghost and claimed that in some unconscious way, Guillermo _wanted_ to walk in on his master furiously beating his meat.

That thought did not help the redness in his cheeks as he stepped into the room and took in the sight before him. Regret and terror and dread came rushing into his brain, lighting his amygdalae with searing electricity, much the same way a person suddenly regrets jumping off a bridge to their death. Only right now, this seemed much, much worse. Somehow Guillermo was still holding onto the crate, though he couldn’t hold his jaw shut. It hung limply in shock, painting an amusing picture alongside the shock in his wide, dark eyes.

Nandor was sitting back on his chaise, head against the backrest, eyes hooded as he panted. His face was twisted in what looked almost like pain, but certain other parts of his body betrayed that idea. The only silver-lining to the situation was that Nandor was still in his pants, which were unbuttoned just enough to show the hem of his underpants, and Guillermo knew that Nandor didn’t _always_ wear underpants, so that was one point to his guardian angel. The vampire was shirtless though, and the sheen of sweat across his chest (which really shouldn’t have been there, Guillermo mused absently, because he was a vampire) was not helping the human’s confused tangle of desire and chagrin at _all_. What’s worse, Nandor was lazing back very seductively, his arms spread over the backrest, his crotch, which sported a very impressive hard-on beneath his underpants, jutting out with the arch of his back. Guillermo could do nothing but thank every possible God in the universe that Nandor had thought to replace his underwear for whatever reason before his familiar had entered.

Guillermo was expecting a reprimand so great that it would transport his soul to the next life, one so outrageous that it would be told at his funeral and be the inspiration of songs for generations to come. What he _didn’t_ expect were the words that currently slipped breathlessly out of his master’s lips.

“Guillermo,” he purred, “thank goodness. I was just about to call for you.”

Guillermo tore his eyes away from that boner, intending to look at Nandor’s face and search it for any meaning, any sign of a prank or joke, but he found he couldn’t so instead he scanned the three bottles of presumably empty lube, six variously-sized silicon toys (some were such strange contraptions that even Guillermo didn’t know what they could possibly be used for), crumpled towel and a few empty glass jars strewn over the velvety seat of the lounge. Somehow, despite the fact his body was frozen to the spot and his brain was a mess, he managed to piece together what was going on – aside from the obvious, of course.

“I’ve tried _everything_ ,” Nandor lamented with a melodramatic wave towards the dildos and other…miscellany. “Nadja won’t allow Laszlo near me because apparently I am ‘taking away all their fun’. And I don’t want to offer Nadja any good times because then she will expect me to do things to her with my _tongue_ —”

_Why…_ Guillermo thought in dismay… _Why must these vampires be so open about sex._

“—I have tried using my hands, of course, but that is boring. I have tried to do the humping of all of the things in this room, except my swords. I would rather not resort to that. As you can see, I have tried using many different-sized glittery genitals and beads and this strange skinny thing that I—”

“Okay,” Guillermo choked out, cutting him off. He didn’t actually know what he was going to say, he just needed the vampire to shut up. “Okay,” he repeated. He shut his eyes. Took a deep breath. Opened his eyes again. Saw Nandor’s boner. Strategically placed the crate in front of his own growing shame-bulge and grimaced. _What could he say?_

“You have a very healthy libido, Guillermo,” Nandor complimented. Guillermo simply blinked. Did he? More importantly – how could Nandor know that? Before he could even think to question, though, the vampire continued. “Do you have any advices for what to do when you get bored of using your hands and your bitch housemate will not let you borrow her husband?”

Okay, this was…good? A practical question. Guillermo was good with practicalities, even if the topic in question was terribly personal and terribly embarrassing. He cleared his throat, deciding to voice the first thing that popped into his head.

“Well, there’s always – uh – porn.”

“Porn?” Nandor repeated thoughtfully. _God_ , did he look heavenly sitting there, still hard as iron yet with a body so fluid as it rested against the chaise. “Like Laszlo’s pornographies?”

“Huh?” Guillermo forced himself to focus on his master’s face, which wasn’t any less of a turn-on for his _healthy libido_. He shook his head. “No, well yes, but I mean you could try watching porn of somebody you _don’t_ know.”

Nandor screwed his nose up at that. “Why would I want to do that?” he asked.

“B-because, I think you’ll find, that uh…more modern porn is better quality and uh…may even…meet any needs you might have…”

“Needs? What do you mean, _needs_?” Nandor was approaching this with the suaveness of a five-year-old and Guillermo wanted to simultaneously laugh and cry.

“I don’t know!” he said, flinging his arms up and finally dropping the crate. Thankfully the chagrin had deflated his own cock. If only Nandor had the ability to feel even an ounce of shame. “What you’re into? Fetishes? Like, I don’t know, bondage? Blowjobs? Bukkake?”

“Those are the things _you_ like, Guillermo,” Nandor pointed out, a little too casually. “Don’t look at me like that, I have seen your histories. That time I tried to find my electronic letters, Colin Robinson told me they would be in the histories, and so he clicked on the little clock—”

“Well what do _you_ like,” Guillermo blurted flatly. It was hardly a question, just the first and only thing he could think of to deviate the topic away from him. Only he realised with a sudden pang that it could potentially open just another can of embarrassment.

“Hmm,” Nandor, still full-blazes, tapped his bottom lip. A lip that Guillermo had dreamed of sucking on countless times.

_No, brain, stop. Not right now. For God’s sake not right now._

“MILFs,” the vampire began thoughtfully. “Instruments of torture…you know, typical Laszlo porn—”

“Why don’t I just go get my laptop and set something up for you,” Guillermo interrupted breathlessly, his face close to detonation. He left the crate where it was and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him and ignoring Nandor’s single call. He welcomed the hallway’s cool, stale air against his face and inhaled deeply. Nandor’s room had been far too stuffy, far too _hot_ , the smell of lube and sex and Nandor’s own personal scent overpowering. Without another thought, he went and got his laptop.

He was silent as he set it up on the little table he’d dragged over from the wall. The heat in his face was back. Nandor hadn’t moved from the dreadfully delicious position he’d been in when Guillermo had walked back into the room: he was laying on his side, head propped up on one hand, watching his familiar with casual disinterest. The bottles and jars and toys had been kicked away and were now strewn around the floor. There was _no_ way Guillermo was picking those up for him, no matter how commanding his master could be.

He knew he’d be forced to pick them up later.

“Do you feel embarrassed?” Nandor asked all of a sudden, much to Guillermo’s surprise…and dismay. How could he answer that? Of course he felt embarrassed! Thankfully, Nandor didn’t wait for a response. “Good little Catholic boy, drops to his knees and weeps at the mere _thought_ of sexy times.”

From the corner of his eye, Guillermo saw the vampire’s lips stretch back in a grin that showed his fangs. _Yeah_ , he thought bitterly, _good little Catholic boy that regularly lures virgins to their deaths and then dismembers their corpses._ “I’m not—” he mumbled, then decided he didn’t feel like lying. Or explaining himself.

He found some video with MILF in the title, checked that the volume wasn’t too loud, and clicked play before nearly bolting from the room. “I’ll uh…check back in half an hour to uh…”

“Yes, yes, whatever.” Nandor waved him off distractedly, his eyes lighting up at the unfolding scene on the little screen. His hand was already snaking down to his underwear as Guillermo pulled the door shut.

As he went on to his next chore, Guillermo considered maybe hiring an underling to collect semen from now on.

He came back half an hour later to a very disgruntled Nandor. The vampire was sitting hunched, head in his hands, staring down at his misbehaving dick (which was thankfully still hidden under unbuttoned pants and underwear). Guillermo picked up the crate and put it on the vampire’s vanity.

“Did the computer shut down?” he asked carefully.

“No, Guillermo,” Nandor mumbled, still hiding his face. “I have watched five pictures and _nothing_!”

“Maybe MILFs aren’t your thing after all?” Guillermo suggested as casually as possible (which, to his surprise, was rather casually).

“This is the dark arts, Guillermo,” the vampire said in an overdramatically ominous way. “They have cursed me.”

Guillermo frowned. “Who? The MILFs?”

“The witches!” Nandor snapped, looking up with a disgusted grimace, as though Guillermo were a misbehaving child. “They have put a curse on my dick!”

Guillermo wasn’t convinced. In fact, he was trying to hold back laughter. “You’ve been able to…fill jars for weeks now. Why would they suddenly put a curse on you?”

“I don’t know!” Nandor said in exasperation, flinging his arms up. Then he lowered his voice to an almost-whisper. “But I think I know what must be done.”

Guillermo decided to humour him. “Oh? And what is that?”

Nandor didn’t reply straight away. His eyes were fixed on Guillermo’s, and suddenly they were much darker, almost predatory. Almost _hungry_. Maybe he simply had to feed to get the blood pumping, so to speak? No – Nandor always made sure to feed beforehand. That hunger was something else, but Guillermo couldn’t quite place it…

“I need you to help me,” Nandor said, his voice suddenly husky.

Guillermo blanched. His heart sped up, was thumping so loudly that he could _hear_ it, and if he could hear it, it must have been deafening in Nandor’s ears. He gulped and it was like swallowing sandpaper. His mouth was suddenly too dry.

“Y-you want me to…to help?” he cheeped; eyes wide.

“I know,” Nandor said in a near-whisper, looking him over beneath hooded lids. “It is not ideal. I know you do not like dealing with curses and such—”

“Actually—” Guillermo shut his mouth quickly, horrified that he’d even considered blurting out what was in his head. _Actually, this is a curse I can live with_. “I’ll help you,” he said as confidently as he could, lifting his chin. He took a step forward, then another, willing his body to move. He probably looked rather robotic, but Nandor looked at him with a relieved, almost affectionate sparkle in his eyes, and that made it okay.

Guillermo stopped in front of his master and looked down into his eyes, suddenly very nervous. “I’ve n-never…” he stuttered, “I-I mean…not with—”

“It’s okay,” Nandor said with a wave of his hand. “I just need you to help me. It is no big deal, really. I just don’t know how to track—” He cut short as his familiar dropped to his knees in front of him. Guillermo looked up at him now, trying to convey all of the trust and sincerity and adoration he could manage. This was it. This was his chance to show Nandor how _good_ they could be for each other. He wouldn’t screw this up. He gave the vampire a little smile, tried not to let it tremble, and then reached out and under Nandor’s trousers for the hem of his underwear. Nandor seemed to stiffen considerably under his touch, and if Guillermo had looked up at that moment, he would have seen the vampire’s face twist into an appalled scowl, his eyes wide in disbelief. Instead he stared down at the bulge and licked his dry lips to moisten them, his own cock stirring at the sight and the feel of Nandor’s pubic hair brushing the backs of his fingers as he began to pull down.

Before he could even reveal the tip of Nandor’s cock, the vampire bolted to his feet, knocking his familiar back in the process. Guillermo almost hit his head on the side of the table and his laptop bounced. Somehow the jolt caused the video on the screen to play, and the sultry but tinny groans of a porn actress filled the air.

“ _What the fuck are you doing_?” Nandor boomed.

Guillermo recoiled even more, before gathering himself and scrambling to his knees. “I was helping you!” he gasped. “I thought—y-you asked me to help—”

“I wanted you to track down the witches for me, not make the curse even worse! Fucking _guy_!” the vampire yelled. He began pacing, buttoning up his pants in the process. Unfortunately he was still very hard.

“I’m so sorry, Master!” Guillermo gushed in his most placating voice, still on his knees like a pathetic beggar. “I misunderstood you. I-I’ll help you find the witches! I’m sorry!” Bile rose in his throat from the dread in his chest. His heart had melted into his stomach and he thought he was going to be sick. Was it possible to die of shame? He was sure it was. He was sure he was dying right now.

Nandor let out a growl and spun to face him, hands on his hips as he looked down in disdain. “Go get one of Laszlo’s pornographies,” he ordered. “And the spinny picture-mover to play it. Bring it to my crypt and then go find these _fucking witches_!”

“Yes sir,” Guillermo said, scrambling to his feet breathlessly, “yes Master. I’m sorry.”

“You already said that a thousand times! Out with you, go!” He waved his familiar away, who shut the door a little too loudly as he left.

Nandor sat back in the chaise and slapped a hand over his mouth. The laughter still bubbled forth anyway and he snorted, a burst of air separating his fingers as he desperately tried to keep it in. Guillermo! On his knees! Ready to pleasure him! The very thought was absurd. Hilarious. His little good Catholic familiar. If Nandor weren’t allergic to blessings, he would bless the boy. He was a good familiar, if not a little _too_ familiar, Nandor decided. He was willing to do most anything for his master. Even…even…

Nandor tore his hand away and howled with laughter, blocking out the noises of the sex-making on the useless little picture-screen. He doubled over onto his side, hoping that Guillermo wouldn’t hear his peals. Such a stupid little human, to think that Nandor would want _him_ as a sex toy. He sniffed as the peals died off, and wiped his eyes with a dainty finger. He laid there for a moment shuddering as the remnants of his amusement left him. _Eugh_ , he was still hard though.

His mind went unbidden to the memory of moments ago, seated on the chaise with his familiar’s head level with his throbbing dick. He thought of those warm hands gingerly peeling away the hem of his underwear to reveal a nest of thick black curls underneath. He thought of the way he’d been frozen by that touch, unable to move or even talk, as his mind went blank and his dead heart played tug-of-war with reason and want. He thought about how his cock had twitched at the appalling idea playing in his head, and his cock twitched now.

_Yeuugh! am not attracted to Guillermo!_ he silently scolded himself. _He is an ugly human. An ugly human with a stupid plain face and big round spectacles and shiny curly-curls. Stupid soft pathetic human tummy full of human foods. Big strong arms. And…and that stupid look he gets in his eyes when he wakes me and sees me for the first time in the evening. Those dumb lips that I have definitely never had dreams about. His ass. His ass is…I hate is ass. I hate his ass so much._

He let out a snarl of bitter surrender when he realised his hand was already around his cock. It was worth a try, if only to relieve the ache in his loins. He swooped an arm over the floor and picked up an empty jar, all the while trying to unbutton himself again one-handed. Eventually he got everything out and began to pump, his desperation momentarily blinding him to the fact that Guillermo would probably be walking in any second now. When he finally realised this, he shuffled around to face the back rest. This made it easier to balance the jar in place anyway.

He allowed himself to imagine what could have happened, had he not blown up at Guillermo for touching him. Would Guillermo have used his hands? No, the way he’d knelt and licked his lips meant that he’d been planning to use his _mouth_.

_His histories said that he likes blowjobs_ , Nandor mused as he stroked himself. For some reason he tucked that knowledge away to examine more closely later. For now, though, he let his mind take him on a sensual fantasy involving Guillermo’s mouth, his aching cock, and the greatest orgasm he had ever experienced…

But the orgasm that finally came to him was far from his greatest. It came on so suddenly that he almost completely missed the jar. He grunted, bit his lip, possibly drew blood. As he rode out his climax, watching the jar slowly fill, he imagined his seed gushing down the back of Guillermo’s throat instead; of Guillermo licking it from the head of his softening cock with a wry little curve of his lips.

_Do you want this boner to ever go away?_ he scolded himself, though blessedly he was already deflating. When the jar was three-quarters full, he found himself spent. He bowed his head, exhaled through his nose, and tried to ignore the stupid post-masturbation guilt that came with fantasising over his plump little human familiar with the great ass.

By the time Guillermo came back in, lugging a giant picture-maker-wheely-thing and a few films, Nandor had already cleaned up, dressed, and placed the one single jar on the crate. Most ‘fill’ nights he could produce a few jars, but Guillermo should have been grateful he managed even _that_ jar. He was going to find these witches and he was going to kill them. He must have been running out of semen by now. He mulled over this as Guillermo entered. The human’s eyes immediately went to the filled jar on the vanity.

“Took you long enough!” Nandor snapped, sitting more erect. “Thankfully I was able to finish _all by myself_.” He punctuated each word with a jab in Guillermo’s direction.

Guillermo carefully placed the vintage device against the wall and then went to the vanity. He raised an eyebrow.

“One jar?”

Nandor narrowed his eyes at his insolent familiar. If only looks could kill. Then again, if looks could kill, Nandor would already be well dead. Perhaps he should exchange Guillermo for a more terrible-looking human familiar. That was too much work, though. He was stuck with Guillermo. What a direful existence. Nandor sighed dramatically and rested back on the chaise.

“Okay, well, I’m sure Laszlo can make up the quota,” Guillermo said, trying to sound all businessy, as though he hadn’t tried to wantonly seduce his master only ten minutes ago. He picked up the near-empty crate with half a frown and went to leave. Before he was out the door, though, he turned around. Nandor didn’t bother hiding his grimace. He was bracing himself for…something. What if Guillermo _knew_? Could humans read minds?

“Can I ask,” Guillermo said, chancing a hesitant side-glance at the vampire.

“No, but you will anyway,” Nandor muttered.

For some reason that seemed to make the man relax. He dropped his shoulders a little and tried to hide a smile. “What helped? I mean, just so I know, for uh—for future knowledge.”

Nandor screwed his nose up. He tried to look perturbed, or angry, or something of the sort, but he suspected he just looked pettish, and his eyes probably gave too much away.

“ _Instruments of torture_ ,” he said through gritted teeth.


End file.
